Back East
by JosephineLL
Summary: Sam and Paul hang out. Part one of the 'Major Romantics' series cowritten with Cincoflex.


Title: Back East  
  
Author: Josephine  
  
Email: Lovellama@aol.com  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Category: Romance  
  
Codes: C/P. Davis  
  
Summary: Sam and Paul hang out  
  
A/N: Part 1 in the 'Major Romantics' series being written with Cincoflex. She has written part 2, 'Spice'. Go read it!  
  
~~~~~  
  
Almost dead on her feet, Sam walked down the steps to the Metro station under the Pentagon. It was early on a warm Friday afternoon, and the cool of the underground station was welcoming. Done with the myraid of meetings that had taken the better part of three days, she was free until 0800 Monday when she was due to go to P3K-2038 with the rest of her team. She sighed, vacillating between going back to Colorado or hanging around D.C.  
  
"Major Carter! Sam!"  
  
Sam turned at the sound of the familiar voice, her heart giving a little lurch that she ruthlessly squashed as Paul Davis came bounding down the stairs toward her.  
  
He smiled as he jogged up to her. "Wasn't sure I'd catch you in time. You weren't going to leave without seeing me, were you?" Paul chuckled, his breath coming slightly quick.  
  
"No, of course not," Sam lied as men and women dressed in the varying uniforms of the armed forces streamed around them.  
  
"When are you heading back? Can you at least have dinner with me tonight?  
  
"There's a flight leaving at 6.30. " she weakly offered up.  
  
"Come on, Sam, a new restaurant opened up by where I live; I've been wanting to show you it but whenever you come to D.C. it seems like you and Colonel O'Neill are joined at the hip. Now's my chance. Whadda ya say?"  
  
Sam just stared at him a moment, trying to figure if she heard right. "Uh, sure. I'd love to."  
  
"Great," Paul smiled. "You at the Marriott in Crystal City again? I'll pick you up at 4.30. If I know you, you didn't eat lunch," he added at her nod.  
  
"See you then," Sam tossed back as Paul made his way up the steps back into the Pentagon.  
  
Almost in a daze Sam fed her farecard into the gate, passing through and waiting for the Metro. She got in the nearest car, sitting down in on of the rather ugly orange vinyl seat. Downtown Arlington passed her unseeing eyes in a blurr, her mind on one thing.  
  
What on Earth was she going to wear?  
  
Three stops later as she got off at National Airport and waked the few blocks to the hotel, she still didn't know.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Jeans and a silk camp shirt, that would be fine right? Samantha Carter, Major in the United States Air Force, member of SG-1, Earth's first line of defense against the Goa'uld ran a nervous hand down her thigh, trying to smooth out imaginary wrinkles as she waited in the Marriott lobby. You'd think I'd never been out on a date before, she groused to herself, before wondering if in fact was a date. Maybe he was just being friendly.  
  
"Sam, you look great."  
  
A sense of relief went through her as Paul came up, dressed as casually as she was. She smiled back at him, then froze for a second as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.  
  
It seemed it was a date.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Simply Fish?" Looking up at the two-story glass entrance to the restaurant, Sam blinked at the large metal sculpture of a fish skeleton hanging inside as they got out of the car.  
  
Paul grinned as he opened the door for her. "This just opened up a few months ago. The owner has another place, Mango Mike's, that's pretty good, so I have high hopes for this one too."  
  
The pair followed the hostess back into the restaurant, eyeing the metal wine cage that took up the entire space under the stairs with interest, sitting down at a small table and opening up the menu.  
  
"Care to split the fried calamari?" Paul asked as they both ran an eye down the dishes.  
  
"Actually," Sam said with an apologetic half smile, looking up at him. "I've been dreaming about crab cakes since I found out I was coming back. Split that instead?"  
  
"You dream of crab cakes? Sam, how boring," he chided in a teasing manner. Sam bit her tongue, loath to tell him what-or who--she had also been dreaming of.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"I thought we could get ice cream for dessert," Paul mentioned as Sam pushed her empty plate away with a happy sigh. "There's a place just up the block."  
  
She nodded with a smile. "A cone sounds great."  
  
They sat on the bench outside the Baskin-Robbins, Sam nibbling her Mississippi Mud while Paul took long swipes at his French Vanilla. She tensed slightly has he draped an arm behind her, resting it on the back of the bench and stuck out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. He continued to eat his ice cream, however, and Sam relaxed again.  
  
"It's still early, is there anything you'd like to do?" asked Paul. She noticed he kept his eyes straight ahead, and was there an almost too casual tone to his voice. "We could sit on my patio and look at the lights from DC reflecting off the clouds. We don't get the clear nights you have in Colorado," he added ruefully.  
  
"I'd like that." They flashed each other quick smiles, both realizing their relationship was slowly shifting to something more intimate.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Paul lived less than a mile away, in a housing development built in the early years of World War Two II for government workers. The duplexes were dark red brick with slate roofs, set among old oaks and maples.  
  
"Would you like something to drink? I have a Merlot; a Zinfandel might be better, seeing how warm it is outside."  
  
Sam followed Paul in as he tossed his keys into a basket near the door. The end unit townhouse had solid wood furniture in the Mission style, the amber shades of the lamps giving the room a warm golden glow.  
  
"The Zinfandel sound great." She heard the refrigerator door open, and found Paul in a miniscule kitchen, almost antiseptically clean. Watching as he plucked two wine glasses from a top cabinet, Sam admired the way he efficiently moved through the small space. At his nod, she opened the door to the backyard, stepping out to a good-sized cobbled patio that abutted the forested easement to the interstate.  
  
"It was either the trees and the dull roar from three ninety-five or being fenced in and looking in my neighbor's bedroom window," Paul quipped as he and Sam sat down in the old Adirondack chairs. He poured her a glass of wine, setting the bottle between them after filling his own.  
  
Sam looked through the mix of hardwood, barely able to make out what could have been cars whizzing past at seventy miles an hour. "Good choice." They sat in companionable silence, idly watching the squirrels dash about.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The sun had set a few hours ago, and for once there wasn't the orange glow from D.C.'s reflected lights. Sam set her empty glass next to the empty bottle and sighed regretfully.  
  
"I should be getting back to the hotel." Her voice was low, befitting the inky darkness around them. "I need to look up flights for tomorrow."  
  
"I'll take you." Paul put his glass next to down, then glanced up at her. "Sam. "  
  
She looked over at him, puzzled at his hesitant manner. "What?"  
  
"They're not expecting you back at the Mountain until Monday, right?" At her nod, he continued, not quite at a rush. "Take a Sunday flight. Forget about the SGC, spend tomorrow with me doing absolutely nothing productive for once."  
  
He reached out and took her hand in his, his thumb stroking over the soft skin. Sam thoughts went to her empty house, a frozen dinner or take out waiting for her. She'd probably end up in her office Sunday, hunched over the naquadah generator, trying to get it to work.  
  
"Sam, please-- stay."  
  
With a thrill of possibilities, she smiled, and nodded. 


End file.
